We camped in our little trailer waiting for the county to come by and inspect our road. After all our work getting the engineering approved we were only expecting a bunch more “no” from the county.
It rained. It rained and rained. It turned out to be one of those “100 year rains that are now happening every couple of years” as characterized by our neighbors. On a lark I put a 55 gallon drum under the trailer’s awning to see how much we would collect. By morning it was overflowing. We tramped down to the gate and found over a foot of water on the sides of our road. Most of it stood above the water and I started clearing some of the drainage. The county’s culvert down the main road was already under water but still flowing. We installed a silt fence where the culvert under our gate runs to keep the overflow from shooting onto our field. When I was done my boots were full of water and it was lunch time. Up the hill we sloshed to have a little lunch, pack up for the ride home and await the inspector’s arrival.
After lunch the dog started barking. (Her favorite thing to do at the farm.) I slipped on my soggy boots forgoing soggy socks and started down the hill. I could see the inspector’s white station wagon and gave a whistle but by the time I was half way down he had turned and driven away. Dang.
Lac de Canard
What greeted me was a lake. No road at all. I imagine the inspector’s notes will read something like… “add two more feet of gravel or install a ferry”. The culvert down the main road had stopped running and water was flowing over it. I’m not pointing fingers, but I think the county should have built to code on this one. So we packed up and drove the truck over what I remembered was the road’s track. Since we had both changed to the only dry clothes we had left we now needed to get the gate closed. LeFemme was wearing her Bogs, but clearly the water was higher than the tops so I bravely rolled up my pants, took of my shoes and socks and waded in. Grabbing the permit was interesting as it was in 3 and half feet of water. I leaned out from the road hoping not to fall in. The gravel was sharp, but by the time I was done my feet were numb anyway.
Back to Civilization
We were both looking forward to a warm shower and dry clothes. Home we went after an unsatisfactory weekend. I kept bursting into laughter every time I imagined the inspector’s face and imagining all kinds of responses.
“What road, I don’t see no stinkin’ road?”
“I ‘Canardly’ see the road!”
“You’re gonna need a bigger boat.”
“Another 60 yards of gravel oughta do it.”
“I told you these were wetlands…”
When we finally got home everything was oddly dark. No Power. The irony is that our little trailer had power, hot and cold running water, a fridge, central heating and even a generator if we ran low. Home had a wood stove and a propane cooktop. We have enough water in our pressure tank to get through a week or two if we conserve (I know from experience).